Tripping a Light Tango
by Blinguist
Summary: Rules are rules that are not meant to be broken. Even those set in place simply for a lighthearted ice breaker at a charity event. A Spock/Uhura one shot. Fluff galore...


Just in case anyone is wondering, I do not own Star Trek or any of the characters. I do, however, own a car that has recently been downgraded to a "clunker" by the federal government—so I've got _that_ goin' for me.

Special thanks to **DayByDay** and **januaryfreeze92** for taking a look at this puppy before it was unleashed. You guys are great!

Just a bit more fluff that I thought I'd share.

************************************************************************

"May I inquire what items you are making available for purchase, Cadets?"

Spock fixed his gaze on Kirk and McCoy, who were presently manning the makeshift "ticket counter" on the quad one pleasant spring morning, anticipating an answer.

Kirk, caught a bit off guard by the austere Commander's question, stumbled to provide a response. Particularly since Commander Spock had never shown even the slightest interest in any extracurricular activities at the Academy.

"Uh… um… tickets… Sir. Tickets to the Annual Benefit Ball in two weeks," Kirk replied.

Spock, displaying his legendary stoicism in spades, continued his interrogation of the baffled Cadet by asking, "And what organization will benefit from purchase of these tickets?"

"UCSF Children's Hospital, sir," said Kirk, still a bit confused.

"I would not have guessed you to be the charitable type, Cadet Kirk."

Kirk smiled, loosening up a bit before responding, "Well, I'm sure you know that sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do to make your lady happy."

"Or not," McCoy replied through a poorly disguised cough.

"Interesting. I would like to purchase one ticket, cadet."

No further words were exchanged among the trio as the transaction was completed. Spock thoughtfully examined the ticket fixed between his thumbs and forefingers as he walked away.

A stunned Kirk and McCoy swore they heard a quizzical, "Hmm," escape the Vulcan's closed lips.

When Spock was finally engulfed by the sea of bodies on the quad, McCoy mused, "Did I just see what I just saw?"

Kirk slapped the good doctor on the shoulder and laughed. "Yes, you did."

"A Vulcan buying a ticket to a dance? Will wonders never cease?" McCoy shook his head in disbelief.

"Well, Bones, half of my work is done and I didn't even have to break a sweat."

****

Rules are rules that are not meant to be broken. Even those set in place simply for a lighthearted ice breaker at a charity event. This principle was one that had been drilled into every Cadet's way of thinking as soon as they set foot on Starfleet Academy grounds.

Two names, one dance style, all drawn at random — guidelines announced for the first time that evening at the beginning of the activity. If anyone refused to perform cold with their newly acquired dance partner they were warned that a stunt even more embarrassing than the one set before them would be required to appease the charity ball gods, better known as the planning committee.

When Cadet Nyota Uhura's name appeared on the oversized monitor hanging above the dance floor, it was immediately followed by thunderous applause, whistles, and a spattering of "whoo hoos!" The swell of anticipation that coursed its way through the crowd was palpable as she gracefully strode to her mark on the vintage parquet flooring.

Uhura knew her way around a dance floor. She hadn't taken a formal dance class in more than 10 years, but always ensured she got in her share of informal "practice" sessions during hers and Gaila's weekly treks to a myriad of off-campus night spots. Dancing was her greatest release and, she was convinced, the key to her sanity remaining intact during her time at Starfleet. Undoubtedly she loved, even thrived, on the controlled chaos the Academy routinely made of her life, but she also recognized the therapeutic value of down time to avoid burnout.

Just as quickly as the crowd had worked itself into a frenzy, the second name appeared up on the screen, effectively sucking all of the air out of the room. Flashing in big, bold letters was a name that shocked all those who have filled the expansive ballroom — Commander Spock.

"Whaaa…?" a random voice exclaimed from the audience. "I didn't even know he was here," interjected another. "He's not really going to dance, is he?" a disembodied voice questioned in disbelief.

Moving sternly and resolutely through the crowd that had lined the perimeter of the dance floor, Spock made his way to the place where Uhura nervously awaited her dance partner. As he approached, he tugged on the bottom of his charcoal gray uniform jacket and greeted her with a slight bow of his head once he was in position.

"Cadet," Spock addressed her, exuding confidence.

"Commander." Uhura's voice quivered.

Just then, a collective, "Woooo" resonated within the room as the dance style was finally revealed. Uhura could hear laughter coming from several distinctly males voices. One laugh lasted a bit longer than it should have. 'Is that Kirk?' she thought bitterly.

Uhura was hesitant to look up at the monitor, but Spock broke the uneasy silence between them by announcing, "It appears we are expected to entertain my colleagues and your classmates by performing a Tango, Cadet Uhura."

Uhura let out an exasperated sigh, closing her eyes and lowering her head in defeat. "Why did it have to be a Tango?" she hissed through clinched teeth.

"You are distressed by the task set before us," he stated. It wasn't a question.

"Look, Commander, we don't have to do this. Really, we can pass."

"I do not understand. It is no secret that you are quite talented in dancing ability — do you doubt your talent? Or perhaps you are wishing your partner was more suitable and not so random?"

"No, it's not because it's you at all! It's just that the Tango is quite an intricate style of dance. It would be crazy to think that we could come close to pulling this off without having danced so much as two steps together. I mean, it's not exactly your run of the mill, prom night slow dance. And besides, you're… um..."

"… A Vulcan who has most likely never had the experience of dancing?" Spock asked, completing her thought.

Uhura sheepishly looked into his eyes and replies, "Well... yes."

"Nuevo, Argentino, or Ballroom?" Spock asked her, taking her hand into his and placed the other firmly on the small of her back. The sensation she felt at his touch caused her to involuntarily take in a large gulp of air. She discerned a tiny hint of energy pulsating from both areas where his hands made contact; an energy that gradually engulfed the rest of her body.

"Excuse me?" she implored, a tinge of confusion in her voice.

Staring straight ahead and looking past her into the hazy atmosphere of the room, he asked, "Which Tango style do you prefer, Cadet? Our audience grows impatient."

Uhura tentatively placed her free hand on his shoulder and tried to regain her bearings, whispering, "Argentino."

"Excellent choice, Cadet." He looked directly into her eyes and for the first time, she truly saw him.

How many hours had they been in one another's company up to this point? There had been multiple classes where he was teacher and she was student, countless lectures at countless conferences, nearly a year serving as his teaching assistant, and she was just NOW seeing Spock as if for the first time?

In an instant she realized she has seen him through a veil of her own assumptions and miscalculations. Vulcan equals void of emotion. Vulcan equals an inability for empathy. Vulcan equals cold. However, the eyes that seemed to be penetrating her very being were anything but.

"Are you familiar with 'Mala Junta' from Una Noche De Tango?" Spock sensed the last bits of tension escaping from the lovely cadet who stood before him, whose crimson lipstick perfectly matched the gown that both fit her body and flowed freely in all the right places.

"Very much so, Commander Spock," she purred.

In a baritone that rumbled through the room, Spock commanded, "Computer, play 'Mala Junta.'"

"Are you ready, cadet?"

"I am ready, Sir."

Uhura bit her bottom lip and Spock experienced an unanticipated increase in his heart rate. He began to wonder if he had already taken this too far — a thought that was swiftly replaced with an unquenchable desire to continue.

The music commenced and with the sound of the piano keys' unforgiving assault against its strings, Spock whipped Uhura's body closer to his until there was no space between them. Their noses touched ever so slightly as Uhura snaked her hand from his shoulder to the back of his neck.

The violins announced their entry into the fray and Spock spun Uhura until she was facing away from him. She felt his breath brush against her ear and she closed her eyes to keep from losing her concentration.

He inquired softly, "Do you trust me enough to follow my lead?"

"Yes, I do," she responded without a second thought.

Spock bent their bodies to the left allowing Uhura's skirt to fall away from her extended right leg. He stole a quick peek before bringing their bodies to attention once again. However, the image of the long, silky appendage that floated in his head caused a brief delay before he began the next move. He realized staying focused was going to take a little more effort than he originally expected.

Spock and Uhura were gliding effortlessly across the floor. Their feet intricately intertwined and neither of them missed a step, which began to baffle the cadet. How could they be so in synch? Yes, she was following his lead, but how was she successfully navigating each move — as if they had been telegraphed for her?

Spock picked up her thought.

"You are curious about why we are doing so well."

"Yes, just a bit."

"I must ask your forgiveness. As a touch telepath, I took it upon myself to establish a connection between the two of us. The connection is relatively mild in its intensity and will not have any lasting effects on you. You are privy to our next move as soon as it enters into my thoughts."

"Oh," Uhura responded lazily.

"You are not upset?"

Their bodies were once again flush with one another and Uhura securely cradled Spock's head and neck with her hands and forearms, resting her elbows on his collar bones. "Not in the least, Spock," she seductively retorted, abandoning the use of his title. There was no need to adhere to formality when your former instructor was seducing you — even if unintentionally.

Spock reclined, creating a gentle slope that Uhura masterfully leaned into. His hands traced from her wrist, down her smooth arm, and along her side and waist before idling at her hip — just long enough for her to lift her knee to caress his hip in response. His finger tips then lightly danced along the length of her thigh.

Uhura savored the pure euphoria that threatened to encompass her. She has had this feeling once before during a dance competition years ago — just not as intense as what she was experiencing at this moment. She was conflicted as to whether it was due to the telepathic connection or her reaction to their display of near perfection on the dance floor.

Perhaps it was a combination of both.

"Where did you learn to dance like this?" she inquired.

"I had a doting mother who did everything in her power to make certain I grew up to be a perfect gentleman. This included enrolling me in dance classes."

"Something else we seem to have in common. Did you ever dance competitively?"

"Never. In fact, the only dancing I have done was during my classes. They were few and far between since I could only take part in them when we visited earth. As you can imagine there are no dance classes on Vulcan."

Uhura was shocked. How could someone with limited dance experience move so impeccably?

"How is that possible? There are people who practice for years and still can't perform this well."

He allowed one side of his mouth to lift in a sort of half smile, twirled Uhura away from him, and, just as quickly, twirled her back in. Their hands interlocked in front of her body as she was once again facing away from him. He dropped his lips to her ear and lightly exhaled, causing chill bumps to form on her skin in spite of the heat that was being generated between them. Another set of chill bumps formed on top of those already in place when he said, "I have another confession to make, Nyota."

Not cadet, not Cadet Uhura, but Nyota. Has he ever used her first name before? She couldn't remember, as her head began to swirl and she felt lightheaded. She realized she needed to reassess the probability that his seduction was unintentional. After all, she had caught a flash of something in his eyes when their Tango began, did she not?

"I knew we were going to be paired, and I knew what form of dance we were going to be required to perform."

Having temporarily lost the power of speech, Uhura turned to face him, and giving a look that told him to continue.

"I heard a plot that Cadet Kirk was contemplating and sharing with Cadet McCoy as they were selling tickets for this Charity Ball 12 days ago. His exact words were, 'How cool would it be if hot, sexy Uhura got stuck with that ice cube, Commander Spock and they had to dance a Tango?' He continued to say how programming the computer to 'randomly' pick us as partners would be the easy part. Getting me to attend the dance was going to be his true challenge. So I made it easy for him… I purchased a ticket, which appeared to confuse him and Cadet McCoy immensely. I spent the next 11 days reviewing archival video footage of several Tangos performed in the late 20th century until I had each move committed to memory."

"Wait a minute. You're telling me you learned this dance by watching old videos?" Her shock did not prevent the execution of a perfect gancho as she fluidly wrapped her right leg around his left and gently messaged his calf with her foot.

"That is correct."

"But wait, how did you hear his plan? I'm sure Kirk wouldn't be sloppy enough to say all of this while you were close enough to hear him."

"Is my ability to hear him from a significant distance not evident?"

He pulled her body even closer to his — a feat she didn't think was possible — and their foreheads touched. He looked longingly into her eyes and snapped his head to one side and in a hushed tone spoke, "The ears, Nyota."

With that declaration, he began the grand finale by launching Uhura's body backwards, causing a most aesthetically pleasing concave arch. Spock mimicked the curve of her body with his and whispered into her ear, "Do you still trust me enough to follow my lead?"

"Yes." The word escaped her lips as if it were her last breath.

"Have dinner with me."

Uhura's answer came in the form of a skillful and clandestine nibble at his ear. "What took you so long?"

For the first time in the last 3 minutes and 12 seconds, they were aware of their surroundings and they basked in the deafening cheers that congested the room. A huge chasm has formed between them as they stood two arms lengths apart, with hands still interlocked. Uhura curtsied and Spock took a deep bow.

Gaila made her way to the very edge of the dance floor and jumped up and down like a pre-teen who had just received a pony on her birthday. "Go Uhura! Go Spock!" she screamed. Gaila began to chant, "Spock, Spock, Spock," and the rest of the room soon followed.

Spock and Uhura simultaneously spotted Kirk who was standing next to Gaila, his mouth gaping open. Dumbfounded, he was utterly speechless, for what Uhura assumed to be the first time in his life. She read Kirk's lips as he was finally able to muster a, "What the…?"

She looked over to Spock and smiled. He surprises her by responding in kind, albeit much more subdued.

****

"Bones, what just happened here?" Kirk said while pointing at the empty dance floor.

"I'm not quite sure, Jim. But you may have facilitated a love connection."

"Oh, no, no, no. I saw her first."

"Well, he touched her first, which if I'm correct, trumps seeing."

Kirk chuckled allowing his mind to go back. "That's not entirely true. Remember my story about the bar in Iowa when I accidentally touched her bre…."

McCoy interrupts, "Yeah, I meant touched her without getting his face smashed in. In fact, twinkle toes appears to have an entire cheering section." McCoy, not above kicking his friend when he was down, guffawed as he slapped Kirk on his tricep.

"You're a real pal, you know that?" Kirk responded sarcastically.

It took several more minutes for the crowd to calm itself enough for the next pairing to be introduced.

The screen mercilessly displayed Kirk's name. Many of the women in the crowd were particularly intrigued. "Yeah, baby," could be heard from several locations in the room.

Then by some cruel twist of fate, the next name appeared and it was none other than Cadet McCoy.

Dance style: The Lambada.

Spock, who stood next to Uhura after they exited the floor, looked over to her and said, "The beauty of randomness is that the possibilities are endless."

"Did you have something to do with this?" she asked.

Spock playfully shrugged his shoulders and flashed a sly, half smile.

****

Eight days later, Spock and Uhura were in his office, preparing lesson plans for the next several weeks. They were seated at a table located in the center of the room as she hummed the tune for "Mala Junta." She looked up to see that her intended distraction had not fazed Spock in the least. Uhura countered by increasing her volume, surreptitiously sliding her foot out of her boot, and proceeding to stroke the side of his leg.

Without looking up from what he was writing, he smiled and asked her smoothly, "I take it you found dinner pleasing last night, Cadet Uhura?"

_FINITO_

**********

_**A/N** - I'd love to know what you think. I was a bit out of my comfort zone on this one._


End file.
